I remember this day like yesterday. You picked me up in your friend’s car. I came outside, you got out of the car. You walked around to my side and wrapped your arms around me. But I didn’t know it then.
We drove. The hills were steep, the fog started thick. I was a bit nervous and tried to stay calm. That day was the first day of the rest of my life.
But I didn’t know it back then.
We parked the car. Your hair was crazy. You put your red beanie back on. You still have that blue shirt. I thought I bought you that blue shirt. I wondered who you were.
But I didn’t know you quite then.
We walked. We talked. Our conversations were deep. We climbed down the dirt path and into the light. The fog was lifting. The air began to warm.
And that’s how it all began.
I despised the fog, the cold and the gloom, but things always felt brighter when I was next to you.
I offered you a piece of fruit, you took it. You ate it. I smiled as I ate mine. The first gift. First exchange.
You handed me seven spoon rings. I didn’t know I was to pick only one. I put them all in my pocket. You smiled and you left. It was late, I went home. You fell asleep sitting on a bench, waiting for the train.
Kate asked me how it went. I told her you were nice. I played you off cool, but we never stopped talking after that day.
Day after day, you and I have grown together.
We laugh, we laugh a lot. We argue. I guess that’s how it goes. But one thing I know,
is that my love for you grows deeper
than I’ve ever known any love to grow.
I didn’t know when you got out of the car and walked around to my side that I was really holding my husband. I had almost given up on meeting you.
But I remember how your arms felt. They felt like the arms that wrapped around me in a dream I had when I was only 16 or 17.
And I knew, upon waking from that dream, that though I didn’t know what you looked like, I would always remember how you felt.
You still feel the same, my love.